Nevah and I recently had bizness in the Kansas City area. At my age, I despise driving in big city traffic, but we needed to make the trip. So, we overnighted with my old high school classmate, Canby Handy, and his wife May Bea. After a thoroughly enjoyable evening of playing cards and eating too much, the next morning ol’ Canby said to hop into his pickup truck for a little sightseeing around Platte City, Mo., which is just north of the Kansas City Airport.
Folks, from what I saw on our little excursion, I can say confidently — rightly or wrongly — that the Plan A war on carbon dioxide is hopelessly lost. Here’s why I say that: Last time I visited the Canby’s their new home was on the edge of a huge housing development. Today, there are probably more than a hundred new homes around his and new construction was on-going everywhere.
Within a very few miles, I saw a humongous new warehouse that has been finished in recent months. Then we stopped on some high ground and I saw a brand new concrete slab being poured that had to be bigger than 40-acres. It wuz just a small portion of a several-hundred-acre new industrial site being developed just east of the airport. The cement plant for the development wuz on the site. Dozens of cement trucks were lined up hauling cement. Dozens of track hoes, caterpillars, sheep tracks, and utility company equipment were all going at high gear.
When I looked up, I saw airliners landing and taking off at KCI every few seconds. The KCI parking lots were full to overflowing with thousands of every sort of vehicle. In short, the entire KC area is a beehive of activities spewing carbon dioxide into the atmosphere. The same held true everywhere I looked on both sides of the Kansas/Missouri state line.
After seeing all that development everywhere I looked in the KC area, I’ll make the flat-out statement that the goal of curbing carbon dioxide is a pipe dream. It goes against human nature. I don’t know what the progressive Plan B for humanity is, but clearly Plan A ain’t workin’.
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The good thing about our trip wuz the KC area barbecue joints. I’d recommend two: “Scott’s Kitchen & Catering” just east of the KC airport, and “Q39” on Antioch Road. Your tastebuds will thank you for eating at either one.
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Another of my favorite country music singers is now performing on the “Next Life” Grand Ol’ Opry stage. Toby Keith left us country/western music fans with a batch of never-to-be-forgotten pure country songs and memorable lyrics. Toby had a unique quality in his voice that set him apart. The best set of Toby Keith lyrics, in my opinion, came from the song, “A Little Less Talk And A Lot More Action.” Here those lyrics are:
Well, she was fighting them off at a corner table
She had a long-neck bottle. She was peeling the label
The look on her face, it was perfectly clear,
Said, “somebody please get me out of here.”
The look she shot me through the glass refraction
Said “a little less talk and a lot more action.”
The other set of my favorite Toby Keith lyrics were in his famous “Red Solo Cup” song. Here are those lyrics:
Now, red solo cup is the best receptacle
For barbecues, tailgates, fairs, and festivals
And you, sir, do not have a pair of testicles
If you prefer drinkin’ from glass.
Hey, red solo cup is cheap and disposable
And in fourteen years, they are decomposable
And unlike my home, they are not forecloseable
Freddy Mac, can kiss my a#%.”
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Folks, I’ve gotten new hearing aids recently. They are the expensive kind that cost about as much as a whole farm did with I wuz a kid. They work in tandem with my IPhone. And, while they are not perfect, I can honestly say I can hear much better in most locales and in most circumstances.
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Our new home is within a mile of the northern boundary of the Ft. Riley military reservation. The Army uses the northern part of the base as its artillery practice area. From the frequency and ferocity of the artillery practices we hear every night and day, I’d guess that our troops are honing their artillery skills pretty intently. Hope it’s not for a new war.
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I forgot to mention one fact in my recent columns about reaching the 50th anniversary of FARM TALK. For those who might be interested, the Kansas Historical Building research library in Topeka has archived every copy of the paper and my column ever published.
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During a recent Old Geezer Gathering around Valentines Day, my height-challenged buddy, ol’ Bob Doff, wisely questioned, “How is it that women get flowers for Valentine’s Day and Mother’s Day, but men get flowers only on their caskets?” Who knows?
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Here are my words of wisdom for the week: “Some folks drink deeply from the well of knowledge. Too many, though, just rinse and spit.” Have a good ‘un.
